Savior
by StBridget
Summary: Danny rescues an abused dog from a crime scene. K-911 from Bullet's POV. Pet verse.


**Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.  
**

 **A/N: My best friend wanted Bullet's POV on being rescued, so Stormy, this is for you!**

The dog huddled under the bed, shaking. He knew it was just a matter of time before The Man came home and found the stinking pile he'd left. He hadn't meant to, knew he wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't help it. Now he was hiding, hoping The Man wouldn't find him, but the dog knew it was only a matter of time.

The dog didn't know how long he'd been there when he heard The Man's step on the porch. He held as still as he could, trying to be absolutely silent. He heard the door open. He knew when The Man found the pile. He let out a roar. "Fuck! How many times have a told you not to shit in the house? Where are you, you mangy mutt? I'll show you!"

The dog scooched as far under the bed as he could, still doing his best not to make a sound. "Come here, now!" The Man shouted.

Footsteps stomped closer, and the dog smelled the sickingly sweet smell and the pungent, sharp scent that always seemed to accompany The Man. The dog made himself as small as possible as The Man bent down. "There you are, you son of a bitch. Come out here, now!" The dog cowered, but The Man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him out. He dragged the dog over to the pile and shoved his nose in it. "Look what you did. Now, clean it up!" He shoved a handful in the dog's face, and the dog attempted to back up, but The Man's hand held him firmly in place.

Even though he knew it was coming, the dog was caught by surprise when the first kick landed in his ribs, knocking him over. He tried to get to his feet, but the breath had been knocked out of him. The Man kicked him again and again, shouting at him. "I'm going to kill you, you piece of shit! Take that! That'll show you!"

The dog whimpered, pain radiating from his side. There was nothing he could do but lie there and take it. He just hoped it stopped soon, but The Man kept kicking and screaming. "I'll teach you not to disobey me! I'll beat it into you!"

The dog heard a loud noise, and something punched into him, bringing pain worse than he'd ever felt before. He let out a scream as the door burst open and yelling filled the house.

The kicking didn't stop. The Man was still yelling at him. "You won't disobey me again! I'll fix you!"

The dog heard other voices, but he couldn't make them out. There was a roaring in his ears, and it was getting hard to breath. His side felt like it was on fire. It had never hurt this bad before.

Another loud noise rang out, and the dog braced himself for more pain. But it didn't come. He didn't feel the pain of something boring into him like he did the first time the noise sounded, and the kicking stopped.

The dog whimpered, afraid the noise would cause the beating to start again, but he couldn't help it. It hurt so much. He wanted to get up, but he felt like his limbs were made of lead.

A figure approached. At first, the dog thought it was The Man, but this figure was different, shorter, paler, with blond hair. He smelled different, too. He didn't smell sickly sweet or sharp and pungent. He smelled...clean, like soap and shampoo. The new person held out a hand cautiously for the dog to sniff as he slowly moved closer.

"Hey, boy, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." The dog whimpered and tried to wag its tail, but even that movement was too hard and shot pain through his body. This man was not going to hurt him. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he was certain of it.

The man petted him gently. The dog had never felt anything so gentle or tender; all the Man had ever done was kick him and hit him. "There, there, we'll get you fixed up. I'm just going to lift you, okay? I'll try not to hurt you too much." The dog whimpered, trusting this man to help him. He felt strong arms slide under him, gently lifting him. The pain flared up, stronger than before. "Okay, boy, we're going to take care of you." The dog wanted to show this man how much he appreciated him. He whimpered again and weakly lifted his head, trying to lick the new man.

The dog was carried off to a car and carefully lifted in the back seat. He lay there, panting. His breathing got shallow, and he felt himself drifting. He wanted to hang on, knew this new person wanted him to, knew he was going to get help if he just stayed awake, but it hurt so bad, and it was so tempting to slip into unconsciousness.

The car stopped, and the door opened. The dog barely felt the new man lift him, barely heard the man speak. "It's okay, boy, we're here. You're going to be okay." The dog was too far gone to respond.

He felt himself being carried, felt himself being transferred to another pair of arms, a woman's this time. This woman smelled different, sterile, mostly, hardly any scent at all except a faint, chemical smell. The place smelled that way, too, but underneath, the dog could smell the stench of sickness and death, and he was scared.

He felt himself being laid down on a table, and he struggled to get up, to run, not knowing what was going to happen to him. He didn't trust them like he did the new man. A hand held him down, but it was gentle, not harsh like The Man's, restraining him, but not pinning him in place. "Shhh," the woman said. "Just lie still. It's going to be okay." Okay, maybe she wasn't going to hurt him, either. The dog relaxed slightly.

Another figure appeared over him, and the dog tensed again. This one poked and prodded at him, and more pain shot through him. The dog could tell the man was trying to be gentle, but it still hurt. He heard words like "shot" and "punctured lung" and "bleeding out", but they didn't make much sense, floating over him like white noise. Then, something was placed over his mouth. He tried to fight it, but it was held firmly in place. He felt his consciousness slipping away again, tried to stay awake, but lost the battle. Darkness fell.

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The dog slowly regained consciousness. He was confused, uncertain of where he was. He was in a metal cage. He'd been in those before, usually after The Man had beaten him, and before he'd drag him out and beat him again. Those were cramped, though, and he could barely move. He could stretch out in this one, and even stand up, which he did, even though it hurt. The pain wasn't as bad before, and it was easier to breathe, but he still felt a stab of pain with each breath, and there was a dull ache in his side.

The dog looked around for The Man, but he didn't see him or smell him. Then he looked for the new man, but he wasn't there, either. He did see the woman, and his sense of smell told him he was still in the place that smelled of sickness and death, though it was fainter now.

He let out a whimper, and the woman looked up. She approached him, opening the door to his cage and bending down. "Hey, how are you feeling? I know someone who's going to be happy to know you're awake."

Fear shot through the dog. Did she mean The Man? Was he going to come and hurt him again?

The woman seemed to sense his fear. "Don't worry, you won't be going back to that bad man ever again. Detective Williams will be taking you home, and I know he'll take good care of you."

The dog wagged his tail. He had no idea who Detective Williams was, but anybody but The Man sounded good. Maybe he was finally safe. The dog let out a sigh of relief and laid back down, slipping back into sleep.

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The dog was awakened next by a voice. "Hey, boy, how are you doing? I was worried about you." He opened his eyes to see the new man crouched at the opening of his cage. He wagged his tail and whimpered. The new man opened the cage and reached out a hand to stroke him. "It's going to be okay. They'll get you all fixed up, then you'll come home with me." This must be Detective Williams. That was good. The dog liked him. He knew he'd be safe with him.

The new man—Detective Williams—sat on the floor, and the dog laid his head in his lap. It felt sooooo good. The Man had never let him do that—he'd only gotten a cuff in the head if he tried. The dog lifted his head and licked Dective Williams' face. The detective just grinned and scratched the dog's head.

After what wasn't nearly long enough, the woman came up to them. "I'm sorry, detective, but Bullet needs to rest more." Bullet? Who was Bullet? Was that him? He'd never had a name before. The Man had just called him "mangy mutt" or "stupid dog" or "filthy beast" or worse. Bullet was a nice name. He liked it, especially if it was Detective Williams calling him that.

"Please, call me Danny," the detective said to the woman. Danny. That was even better. Danny patted Bullet one last time on the head. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bullet."

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The next few days were a blur for Bullet, but a good blur. He slept, he ate (more and better than he ever had before—The Man had hardly ever fed him, and when he did get fed it was usually moldy and not nearly enough), and he got petted by Danny and the woman and everyone else who came by. He loved it. It was sooooooo much better than before, where he'd live in fear, sleep on a cold, hard floor or in a dark, dirty cage, and get kicked whenever The Man felt like it, which was often. Bullet hoped things were this good when he went home with Danny. He was pretty sure they would be.

Aftter some time—Bullet wasn't sure how long—the woman opened his cage and clipped a leash on him. She'd do that a couple of times a day, but this felt different. It wasn't the usual time, for starters. Bullet couldn't keep track of time very well, but it felt like it hadn't been the usual length of time. Then, she led him a different direction. Usually, she led him to a door in the back to a grassy area (which Bullet loved. He hadn't seen grass much before, and it smelled so clean and fresh and felt so good on his feet). This time, she led him up front, through a swinging door. There was Danny. Bullet woofed happily. Danny got down on his knees and gave the dog a big hug.

"Hey, boy, how you doing? I was worried about you. What do you say—are you ready to go home?" Bullet licked Danny's face and wagged his tail in agreement. He was definitely ready.

Danny scooped Bullet up in his arms and carried him to the car. He set the dog down on a soft, fluffy blanket. Bullet didn't think he'd ever felt anything so soft. He was just dozing off when the car stopped. Danny lifted him up again and carried him into a house. Bullet tensed for a minute, but soon realized this wasn't The Man's house. It was cleaner and bigger and had bright sunlight streaming through the windows, unlike the darkness that always seemed to permeate The Man's house.

Danny set him gently on a big, soft pillow and tucked another fluffy blanket around him. Bullet thought that was even better than the blanket in the car. "There you go, boy," Danny said. "That'll make you nice and comfortable." Bullet woofed and licked Danny's face again and settled down to resume his nap.

When Bullet woke, Danny was sitting on the couch watching TV. Bullet wanted to be closer to him. Maybe Danny would let him up. The Man never did, but Danny was different. Maybe he would.

Bullet heaved himself to his feet and slowly made his way over to the couch, standing in front of Danny, wagging his tail and looking at the detective hopefully.

"You want up, boy? Here you go." Danny lifted Bullet onto the couch, and Bullet lay down next to him, head on Danny's lap. Bullet sighed contentedly. Danny continued to watch the game for a while, petting Bullet occasionally. After a while, Danny spoke. "Okay, boy. Bedtime. What do you say—think you can make it on your own?" Bullet wagged his tail in response. Bed sounded good. Maybe Danny would let him sleep on the bed, another thing The Man had never let him do. At least, Bullet hoped, he wouldn't have to sleep on the floor.

Danny led the way into the bedroom, and Bullet immediately spotted another big pillow like the one in the living room. He went and lay down on it while Danny got into the bed. This was soooooo much better than the floor, but he wanted to be with Danny. He made his way over to the bed. There were steps there leading up to the mattress, and Bullet laboriously climbed them. He lay down next to Danny and rested his head on Danny's chest. Danny put an arm around him. "Hey, there. You going to sleep with me tonight?" Bullet wagged his tail, hoping that was alright with Danny. "Sounds good to me," Danny said. "Let's get some sleep. How does that sound."

Bullet wagged his tail again. That sounded pretty good to him. Snuggling happily into the arms of his new owner, Bullet drifted off to sleep.


End file.
